Chambira belts, snake style

“And what does a naca naca snake look like?” Campbell asks a classroom of Bora artisans.

The question incites a wave of chatter among the women. They respond in both Bora and Spanish.

“It´s red, green and white!”

“It has stripes!”

“It´s poisonous!”

“When it bites you, you die!”

“I have seen one!”

“I will draw it on the chalkboard!”

Yes, every comment does indeed deserve an exclamation point. These 14 women are psyched. Even the children clinging to their arms and legs are wide-eyed and giggling. A few curious men peak their heads through the window.

The women draw ten snake designs on the chalkboard. The group then chooses the six snake patterns that they like best. In teams of two or three, the artisans brainstorm how to make belts using these designs.

Each woman clutches a bundle of chambira fiber. As soon as Campbell hands them a belt buckle, they grab their chambira and start weaving.

* * *

A chambira belt begins in the forest. The chambira tree is made up of six to ten stems that sprout from its base, each about the thickness of a soda can. A few stories up, the stems curve under the weight of crescent leaves. If you cut down any of these stems, the tree will die.

But there is an exception. The stem in the center of the bundle is leafless. It points up like a spear daring to pierce through the sky.

Step one of making a chambira belt is to cut down this spear. In four months, the spear will grow back, and you can then cut it down again.

Step two: Hold one end of the spear and shake. The brown cylinder splits apart into dozens of yellow and green strips. They look like linguine drenched in pesto. Each strip is made up of a soft tissue and a hard cord.

Step three: Strip the soft tissue. But don´t throw away the hard cord -- you can use it to construct fences.

Step four: Dry the soft tissue in the sun for two to three days.

Step five: Dye the chambira with a plant of your choice. If you want yellow, add some guisador to a pot of chambira and water. Boil for three minutes. Red? Throw in some achiote seeds. Purple? A bit of mishipanga. You get the idea – Every color has a corresponding plant. If you are Bora, it probably grows in your garden.

Step six: Dry your chambira fiber, again.

Step seven: Twist the chambira fibers by rubbing each thread against your thigh. If you have hair on your thigh, you will soon lose it.

Finally: Grab your bundle and weave.

***

As they weave, some of the women grip the ends of the chambira fiber with their big toes. Others fasten their chambira to nails that their husbands pound into either a loose board or the living room floor.

The artisans finish their belts in a few days. The women, Campbell and I evaluate each belt together. Some are too skinny, and some are too long. Some are not strong enough, and some are perfect.

I learn a new set of Spanish vocabulary that I will probably never use again, like “pasador,” which is the loop next to the buckle on a belt.

By the next day, the snakes grow longer, fatter and stronger. They are stunning.

I coil the snakes up and pack them away. They´re ready to travel up north to a faraway land, and to be showcased in the Amazon Forest Store.